Everytime
by HoveringthroughoutTime
Summary: When Marcella comes to Xavier academy, Kurt Wagner's heart goes out to her. Befriending the loner was easy, that is, until love reared it's ugly head...some mistakes you can't erase,some secrets you just can't hide...KurtOC I do not own any xmen character
1. The beginning

I turned towards the window once more. The coloring of the sky had

changed little since the last time I looked, remaining that deep, starless

black that signified the dead of night.

Insomnia...again. I allowed my gaze to rove over the black abyss of my

room. This was something I felt I'd never get used to, this sleeping

problem. It had been with me since my 5th birthday...April 22nd...how

could I forget. That was the same day my parents abandoned me. I

smirked to myself; I guess they couldn't handle my 'abilities'.

It was endless, it was madness, it was miserable. Long drawn out nights

where I pondered the world's meaning, and why, although my parents

were normal, I was a genetic warp. On my fifth birthday I had received

two gifts. One was my insomnia, if it could be called a gift, the other,

was my ability to vaporize, mystify anytime I wanted. But that is not why

I am talking to you. You see...I have a problem...or at least...that's what

they want me to think. You see, ever since that day when I became a

resident of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, my world has been a

wreck. I remember that day as clearly as I recall anything else in my life. I

remember the way the leaves were changing. The way I felt as I drove

down the highway to the school, the hope I had. I even remember the

song that played on the radio. But most of all I remember him.

...I promise nothing is wrong with me. Don't believe anything that

anyone tells you about me. Read my story, and judge for yourself.

The clouds hung in the blue sky like marshmallows. The morning was

bright and clear, and it filled me with a sense of hope. Several days ago I

had received a letter from a Professor Xavier. He claimed he could help

me with my insomniac dellema. So, fool that I am, I packed my bags and

set off to the Xavier institute...or whatever it was called. For some

reason everything seemed bright that morning as I traveled down the

highway in my secondhand jeep. I had a good feeling about this insitute

thing. Sighing, I slipped my favorite filter CD into the cd player, and

allowed take a picture to consume my thoughts. "Could you wanna take

my picture? Cause I won't remember," I sang softly, as miles of road

blurred in my vision. The highway was passing by like the fragments of a

dream. Ten hours later I pulled into a large cul-de-sac driveway. The sun

was setting, signifying the end of another day. I ran my eyes over the

front of the building. A large comfortable brick structure covered in

crawling vines graced by high windows-Xavier institute. Turning off the

car I slid out, being as careful as possible in my mary-jane stilettos. I'd

been especially careful about what I'd chosen to wear that day, searching

through my minimal closet for hours before deciding on a button-down

pinstripe shirt, and an a-line navy skirt. A prudish ensemble I know, but

it was one of the only things in my closet without holes.


	2. Breathing underwater

I walked towards the door, my nerves knotting in my stomach, my purse tightly clutched to my shoulder. The door almost looked like a barricade,meant to keep people in. Taking a deep breath, I knocked twice, thenstood back awaiting a reply. Several minutes later, a tall, scowling mananswered the door. For a moment all I could do was stare at hisawesome sideburns. I had never seen anything quite like him.

"Hey?" He waved his hand in front of my face.

"Oh, hi." I felt a flush creeping into my cheeks.

"I asked you what you wanted," his scowl deepened and he crossed hismuscular arms over his chest.

"Oh, are you Dr...er...Professor Xavier?"

"No." His thick brown hair ruffled in the breeze.

"Um, is he here?"

"Yeah." We were getting nowhere, and I didn't have all day.

"Okay, look, I would like to see Professor Xavier now, if that's not too much to ask."

"Are you trying to order me around?"

"For Christ's sake let the girl in Logan," a feminine voice broke through our conversation. Logan, as he was called, rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving me standing in front of the open door. I shrugged, and walked in, taking in the wood varnished walls and the vaulted ceilings.

" Hi," a voice called from a spiral staircase. A beautiful woman stood at the top of the stairs, her white hair contrasting with her honey colored skin," sorry about that, we're not exactly well versed in welcoming strangers." She began to walk down the staircase, the white sleeves of her peasant blouse floating behind her, "but then again, you look like you belong here, I'm Ororo, but everyone calls me Storm."

"Nice to meet you storm, I'm Marcella, but I'd rather be called Markie. It's a good thing you came over and stopped my conversation with that Logan fellow, I was afraid I'd have to bust him up."

"Ha," somewhere in the house Logan laughed.

"That's not funny." I frowned, brushing blood colored hair out of my eyes.

"Welcome to Xavier's academy for gifted youngsters, we've been

expecting you."

"Huh?" Academy for gifted youngsters? "I thought this was a sleep disorder place are something."

"Maybe I should just take you to the professor."

"Mmmokay," I shrugged, and followed her up the spiral staircase, my hands trailing the rails. This was not the strangest situation I had ever been in mind you. I'd been an orphan since I was five, living on the streets after I ran away from that hellish orphanage. I knew how to take care of myself, whatever happened, I would be fine. At the top of the stairs was a long hallway.

"The professors room is the down this hall, where the classroom's are."

"Classrooms?"

"Yes, we offer very advanced classes for our students." Hm...I thought to myself, school was one place I had given up on...after freshman year of high school, I'd dropped out.

"Mm-hm." I looked through the glass at the top of the doors; in one of the classrooms, a tall, extremely attractive man with chestnut hair stood in front of a chalkboard. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of crimson shades as he pointed to what looked like a dozen algebraic equations. In front of him sat an array of kids, from ages 12-16, looking bored out of their minds. I couldn't blame them.

"Markie?" Storm's voice tore me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"This is the professors' office." She knocked on the varnished door. The professors' office was large and elegantly decorated. Large paintings as well as bookshelves graced the varnished walls. Behind a large desk sat the man I assumed was the professor. Upon our entry he wheeled toward us in his power chair, smiling warmly.

"Thank you Storm."

"Anytime professor," she smiled at me, before leaving the professor and I alone.

"Perhaps I should explain to you why you're hear..."

I was numb when I left his office, my mind not believing my ears. I was a mutant, he'd said, and he'd brought me to his academy to help me develop my powers. Powers... "Freak abilities is more like it," I grumbled to myself as I walked down the hallway. He'd found out about me after the accident...the one that burned the orphanage down...when I'd lit a spark with my anger, and ignited the place. He said he wanted to help me, give me somewhere to stay. What shocked me most about the whole incident was the simple fact that I'd agreed to stay there. Trust was something that went against my nature, a thing unheard of, and yet...I trusted him. Besides the fact that I needed a place to stay, and it beat living in my car. I continued on down the hallway locked in my musings...until the bell rang. Like the seven plagues of Egypt, kids flooded out of classrooms. I fought the plagues as long as I could, eventually flowing along with the masses. A tall muscular kid knocked me on my ass, and kept going. Damn kids! So I was a mutant, okay, maybe a little fire would teach this kid some respect. I smiled to myself, studying the back of his head as he walked down the hallway. As his hair ignited I felt laughter forming in my throat, yet I resisted the urge. Everything felt like slow motion, as if I was underwater. I watched in mute fascination as another boy put the fire out, and smiled innocently as eyes turned in my direction. "What?"


	3. Redemption

"Did you do that?" His voice was filled with anger as he spoke.

"Did I?" I widened my eyes in shock. Several other kids had crowded around; one was a tall girl with white streaks in her black hair, the other, a boy with gelled brown hair and dancing blue eyes.

"I think she did," the blue eyed boy said, "I think she did it Bobby."

"Yeah Bobby," what kind of name was that? "I think I did it."

"What's going on here?" Logan busted through our little circle.

"She just set my hair on fire," the muscular kid said, glaring at me.

"And I just put it out," Bobby never took his eyes off me, he seemed afraid I would burn him too.

"Why don't you kids go find something to do?" He said as I began to walk away, I wasn't about to stay and listen to his bull. "Hey you, yeah, I'm talking to you." I turned around slowly. "If you wanna live here you try being civilized, stop burning people. I know that's going to be hard for you, especially since you burned down that orphanage and all, but try okay?" I stared at him mutely; rage boiling in my throat, threatening to erupt. Did everyone know about the orphanage? I nodded slowly in response to him, and continued down the hall. They just didn't understand, I had to burn that place down; I had to erase it from the planet forever. They just didn't know...they'd never understand. I went to my car and grabbed my few belongings, which mostly consisted of cds and a stereo. Sighing to myself, I went back inside. I struggled down the hallway with my things; I wasn't about to ask anyone for assistance, especially after that whole burning terminator incident.

"Hey," Storm was right behind me, "let me help you." She took my wal-mart bag of clothes from me, and began leading me down the hall.

"Thanks." I could only follow her.

"I heard about what happened earlier, with you and Anthony."

"Terminator?"

"His name is Anthony." She turned towards me, her brown eyes searching me red ones, "Why did you do it Markie?"

"He ran into me, he knocked me on my ass and kept going."

"That's no reason to set him on fire."

"It was reason enough for me." She sighed, stopping in front of a door.

"This is your room, you're right next door to Kurt and across from me."

"Who's that?"

"Kurt's new here too, he teaches German."

"That's nice," don't really care.

"He'll be your German instructor." At this I had to laugh, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Who said I was going to school?"

"The professor, and the fact that you're only 16."

"Well you can tell the professor no thanks."

"You're going to school Markie, it's the law."

"Fuck no, I ain't going to school."

"We'll see," she unlocked the room, and set my bag on the bed. "If you need anything just knock on my door."

"Thanks..." I trailed off, studying the room. It was the largest room I'd ever called my own. It consisted of a bed, a chest of drawers, a closet, and a desk underneath a window. "Wow..." It was all mine. I felt my eyes water, and fought the tears of joy that threatened at the surface. I set up my cd player, and began to unpack. Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional blasted out over the speakers, drowning all noise. In spite of myself I couldn't help but sing along. "Vindicated, I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right, I swear I'm right, I swear I knew it all along and I am floored! I am cleaning up so well I am seeing things in me, that you swore you saw yourself." A knock resounded on the door, and I went to answer, "Hope, dangles on a string, like slow spinning"- I opened the door, and redemption died on my lips. A pair of yellow eyes met me, and I lost myself in them for a moment. "Wow..." I trailed off.

"Hello," his voice was soft, and thickly accented...a German accent.

"Um, hi," I blinked quickly, regaining my shaken cool. I never lost my cool easily, but this was a new experience all together. I had never seen anyone like this guy in my life. His skin was a deep blue color; almost black, etched with swirls and symbols...he had a tail...my eyes traveled back to his face when I realized I was staring. "Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you please to turn your music down."

"Oh! Um, sure," I turned it down, "Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you," he smiled a little.

"I'm Markie, I'm new here." The second I said it, I felt like a fool, obviously I was new.

"It's nice to meet you Markie, my name is Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich circus I was known as the amazing Night crawler."


	4. Secrets

Thanks to my lovely reviews... you guys are really making me feel welcomed here...For the purpose of this story Pyro is still at mutant academy...

"Really, that's cool."

"Hey Kurt," the terminator kid stood a little distance away, "Can you help me with my homework?" I snickered at the charred spot on his head, and he glared at me.

"I like your hair," I leaned against the doorway, grinning.

"It's not funny you little"-

"Say it!"

"Can we exercise a little self control here?" Kurt moved in between us, eyebrows raised in question.

"Um sure Kurt," I narrowed my eyes at Anthony.

"I'll be in the study," Anthony glared at me, and disappeared down the hallway.

"Markie, did something happen between you two? " "Noooo," I had to think fast unless I wanted everyone to know my life story, "he's an old boyfriend..." I trailed off.

"Oh," he studied me with understanding eyes, and I almost felt bad about lying to him.

"So um...yeah," I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Well, I must be going now, it was nice talking to you."

"Nice talking to you too...see you around." He smiled, and disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke.

"Oookay." This mutant school was going to take some getting used to. I went back in my room to finish unpacking, thinking of Kurt long after the blue smoke had dissipated.

Insomnia...again. This time it didn't surprise me. I lay in bed for a while, watching

shafts of moonlight through my window. White beams of light, falling upon me so

candidly. With a frustrated sigh I sat up in bed. If I could find the kitchen in the bad boy,

maybe some food would help me get to sleep. If anything it would give me something to

do. I crept down the hall in my old jean cut-offs and flannel shirt, past closed doors

where the house slept. After wandering for several minutes, I came upon what looked

like the kitchen. It was completely dark, so I could only assume. "I hope this is the kitchen and I'm not outside are something," I muttered to myself as I rooted for the light on the wall.

"Don't turn that on." I jumped at the sound of a male voice, turning on the light anyway. Seated at the kitchen counter playing with a lighter, was the kid I'd seen earlier with the dancing blue eyes. He looked up at me, slightly annoyed, "I just asked you not to turn that on."

"Do I look like the type who takes orders from someone?"

"You look like my type." He smiled, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Give me a break," I opened the freezer and took out some ice-cream.

"That was cool what you did today, setting Anthony's hair on fire."

" Oh you liked that?" I grabbed a spoon and shoved some ice-cream into my mouth," And I should care because?"

" I don't know, I'm just voicing my opinion," His voice was smooth, he remained unfazed by my attitude.

"Yeah, whatever...don't you think I'm a little old for you?"

"No...You can't be more that 17."

"I'm 25." He laughed at my response.

" Liar, how old are you really?"

"15...I just always pass for older...and you better not tell anyone either." He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"The secrets safe with me...I'm John, but you can call me Pyro."

"Okay John, I'm Markie."

The rest of my insomniac hours were pleasantly spent talking to 'Pyro' , as he wanted to be called. When dawn broke I returned to my room, smiling because I had made a friend.


	5. I'm willing to listen

  
  
I made my way back to my room. By now the sun was rising, streaking the house with  
  
pinks and reds through the open windows. I sighed, closed my door, and collapsed onto  
  
the bed in a dreamless sleep. After what felt like two minutes I was awakened by a loud  
  
knock on the door. I shoved my face into my pillow, hoping whoever it was would get  
  
the message and go away. "Open up," the voice of Logan came from outside the door.  
  
"Go away," I moaned, covering my head.  
  
"Come on, I don't have all day."  
  
"Then go away." I heard a rattling sound, looking up just in time to see the door fly open. "What?!"  
  
"You have school that's what," he set a schedule down on my desk, " whether or not you want to go is up to you, but here's your schedule."  
  
"Wait, this is ridiculous, I'm"-  
  
"Underage, yes, we know." His eyes softened a little, "get dressed." He left, closing the  
  
door behind him. I stood in the center of the room for a minute, trying to comprehend  
  
what had happened. It was simple, they found out I was underage, not a first in my  
  
experience, and they were forcing me to go to class. I grimaced at the mere thought of it;  
  
school. I had been to school before, and I'd hated it. It didn't help that I was an orphan,  
  
and homeless most of the time; all the kids had made fun of my dirty, non- fashionable  
  
clothes. So I'd dropped out, said screw it all and left one day last year...How they  
  
discovered, it, I didn't know. Maybe this time it would be different. I glanced over my  
  
schedule...all the normal classes of a sophomore...my foreign language was German. I  
  
grinned a little at that, and then grimaced. Kurt taught German, I'd also lied to  
  
Kurt...maybe he wouldn't remember, or find out the truth. I sighed and rifled through  
  
my closet, searching for something 'appropriate'. I settled on a black turtleneck, and of  
  
pair of extremely holey jeans, putting some black leggings on underneath them for more  
  
coverage. Holey jeans were in style, so at least I wouldn't look poor. I brushed my  
  
blood red hair, which stood in direct contrast to my honey brown complexion. I had no  
  
make-up to put on...when you can barely afford gum how you look doesn't seem  
  
important. Finally, I slid on my Mary Jane stilettos, and grabbed my backpack, leaving  
  
the room. When I reached the kitchen, it was swarmed. Kids were everywhere trying to  
  
get breakfast-then the bell rang. "Shit!" I moved just in time, as the masses poured out of  
  
the door. I grabbed a bagel and shoved it whole into my mouth, pulling the wrinkled  
  
schedule out of my pocked. My first class was German, in room 05-peachy. I had no  
  
idea where that was...I would be late to my first class, but that was nothing new. I  
  
shoved the schedule back into my pocket and went in search of the room, just as the bell  
  
rang again. That damn bell was so loud! It didn't help that I'd had about 20 minutes of  
  
sleep either. I went up the stairs and began down the long hallway. At the end of the hall  
  
was room 05. I stood in front of the door, biting my lip, contemplating whether or not to  
  
go in. Why was the thought of this class making me so nervous? I rolled my eyes, and  
  
opened the door, boldly walking in. All heads turned towards me, among them I saw  
  
Anthony and Pyro, who winked at me.  
  
"Markie," Kurt addressed me from behind a large desk, "nice of you to join us."  
  
"Sorry I'm late, I couldn't find the room," I laughed nervously, what the hell was wrong with me?  
  
"It's alright, have a seat."  
  
"Hey, right here," Pyro patted the desk beside him, and I slumped into it gratefully.  
  
"Thanks," I whispered.  
  
"Sure." He smiled, "nice jeans."  
  
"Thanks," I had made the right descision to wear them.  
  
"This class is worse then algebra."  
  
"If you say so," my attention immediately went to the front of the room when Kurt began  
  
teach. I had no clue what he said, it was as if the room was silent, and all I could see was  
  
action. I watched him walk around the room and move his mouth for an hour, and I  
  
loved every minute of it. The bell rang too soon, and I stood up to go to my next class.  
  
"What do you have next," Pyro, slung his backpack over his shoulder, "I have algebra."  
  
"Me too," I said after looking at my schedule.  
  
"Good we can walk there together." We made our way towards the door along with the  
  
the other kids.  
  
"Markie, can I talk to you for a moment?" Kurt sat at his desk, his hands folded in front  
  
of him.  
  
"I'll see you in algebra," Pyro gave me a look of pity, and exited the room.  
  
"Um, I kind of have another class now."  
  
"It's okay I will write an excuse for you. Sit down." I plopped down in the desk in front  
  
him.  
  
"I spoke with Anthony."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You lied to me."  
  
"Yeah...I know. And I'm sorry, I just...it's a long story."  
  
"I'm willing to listen." His eyes were full of understanding...he wasn't even upset that  
  
I'd lied to him. That made me nervous, and I played with a hole in my jeans. 


	6. I fell

He seemed so nice, so honest. I could almost think that he cared. For a split second I considered it, telling him  
  
everything. Maybe he already knew, heck, everyone knew. I almost, almost wanted to confide in him...but I couldn't.  
  
Who was I kidding? I stood up, shaking my head, "I have to go to algebra, bye," I ran out the door before he could  
  
reply. The heels of my stilettos clicked as I stormed down the hall, cluthing my backpack to my chest. What followed

afterwards was the worst day of my life. When that 3'oclock bell rang , signifying the end of the day, all I  
  
could think about was what a mistake I'd made coming here. I found myself wandering through the gardens, sorting out  
  
my thoughts. To go back, or not to go back, that was the question. I couldn't leave though, and I knew this as I  
  
pondered it. Go back to what? Living out of the backseat of a fifteen year old car? I sighed, I had nothing. I was an  
  
orphan for Christs' sake. "Bad day?" I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of a voice; it was Kurt. The last  
  
person I wanted to see.  
  
"Maybe." I continued walking, hoping he would take the hint. He didn't, instead, he fell into step beside me.  
  
"Want to talk about it?" At this I turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No, I do not want to talk about it," I sighed, "I left my schedule in your class..."  
  
"I know," he handed me my crumpled schedule, and I took it, my fingers brushing his. I felt my face flush, and I  
  
couldn't look at him after that.  
  
"Thanks," I mumbled, stuffing it into my pocket.  
  
"You're welcome." He smiled, and my heart dropped in my chest as I managed to smile back.  
  
"Why are you so nice?" He looked up at me in surprise, as if I had pulled him from some silent reverie.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why are you so nice? "  
  
"I don't see any reason not to be."  
  
"There are lots of reasons not to be nice...especially to me." He met my eyes with that yellow gaze of his, and I  
  
tripped on my heels. He grabbed my arm just as I was about to fall, and mumbled a thank you in response.  
  
"Why are there reasons not to be nice to you?"  
  
"Oh like you don't know. I lied to you and I burned up that terminator kid, let's not beat around the bush here."  
  
"No one is beating anything...and no one is perfect either." He smiled at me again, and we continued walking.

" Hey Kurt?"

" Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. ..That was the day I fell.


	7. A burning star

I know that this story is off to a slow start...thank you all who have bared with me up to this point...It's really about to pick up, so again sorry sorry sorry for the long wait. :)  
  
We walked through the gardens until the stars came out, pure in the black sky. I stared up at the universe in all it's  
  
glory, and actually felt happy. "The stars are beautiful."  
  
"They are one of God's many gifts to mankind."  
  
"Well if that's true...and there is really a God...that's a nice gift." I tore my gaze away from the sky, feeling as if it

would fall down upon me...or maybe it already had.  
  
"Kurt," I tore my eyes from the sky to see Ororo walking gracefully towards us, "there you are, and I've been looking for you."

"You have? Sorry, I've been in the gardens with Markie." Ororo slid her hand into Kurt's, and smiled at me.  
  
"I heard you had a hard time waking up this morning, Logan said he practically had to break down the door."  
  
"Yeah, well, insomnia...late nights...you know the story." I suddenly felt uncomfortable with her standing there. She was  
  
like a dead flower in the garden, ruining our reverie. I forced a smile, as we stood in a silence now made uncomfortable  
  
by her presence.  
  
"John's been looking for you, he's inside." Was she trying to give me a hint or something? I raised my eyebrows and  
  
leaned back on my haunches, letting my silence be a reply.  
  
"We were just about to go inside when you found us," Kurt broke the silence, shifting a bit uneasily.  
  
"Oh really, I was hoping we could take a walk, it's such a beautiful night." Ororo gestured towards the sky.  
  
"Well in that case, I would love to take a walk with you." I resisted the urge to smack Ororo, and smiled stiffly.  
  
"I guess I'll go find Pyro...see you later," I walked off as gracefully as I could, seething. Who the hell did she think she  
  
was, a freaking goddess or something? Interrupting us like that, like she was his wife. We were in the perfect moment,  
  
and I liked Ororo and everything, but goddammit I could have just slapped her. "Grrrr," I almost ran into Pyro as I

shoved open the glass doors.  
  
"Whoa," he had jumped out of the way just in time," what's with you?"  
  
"Nothing," I snapped, "nothing at all."  
  
"Okay," he held up his hands in surrender," I know when to back off."  
  
"Sorry, it's not your fault."  
  
"Yeah, I know," he grinned," I've been looking for you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Because what?" I arched an eyebrow, causing those dancing blue eyes of his to dance even more.  
  
"Because I wanted to hang out, maybe we could 'do homework' together, notice the quotes around those words."  
  
"Heh, okay," I caught a glimpse of Kurt and Ororo out the window...they looked like they were kissing. I was breathing  
  
underwater again, it was happening way too fast, I could almost picture her burned carcass, hear her screaming ...  
  
"Markie, are you okay?" I blinked, looking away from the door. Pyro was studying me with concerned eyes.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." A fine sweat had broken out on my forehead, and my heart was racing. A few more seconds and

Ororo would have been in flames.  
  
"Good," he nodded in approval, "so...your room or mine?"  
  
"Yours."  
  
"Okay...but I have to warn you...one of my roommate's is Anthony."  
  
"Terminator?"  
  
"Yeah," I let him hold my hand, my mind suddenly flashing back to Kurt and Ororo.  
  
"So, I'll take my chances."  
  
"I knew you were my type."  
  
#  
  
Well there's another chapter friends, hope you like it. Reviews are welcome...do your worst...


	8. Admitting it

His room, just like him, had an arrogant feel to it. On one side, was a typical flame motif, so obviously his. The bedspread, the wallpaper, even the lamps were licked with flames. Laying on the nightstand beside the head of his bed was his signature flame painted lighter.

The other half of the room, was adorned in shades of cool blue. Mechanical gadgets and a large set of weights were laid neatly under the bed. On the walls, were posters of heavy metal bands along with…N'syc? I snorted and leaned in for a closer look; yep, it was them all right. Justin, Joey, JC, and the rest of the bunch smiling cheezily from a door sized poster. I shot Pyro a look, and he merely smiled.

" He has weird taste."

" Yeah, I can see that, N'sync? You like em too eh?"

"No, I just don't mind if he listens to them."

" You like em." His face darkened, and he settled on his bed.

" Let's study."

" Okay." I made myself comfortable in the middle of terminator's bed.

" You looking for a fight Markie?" Pyro grinned as I crossed my legs, allowing the mud from my heels to dig into the spread.

" Maybe. I'd like to finish what I started, ya know, fry the rest of his hair off."

He shrugged, " It's your funeral."

" Pyro, what do you know about Kurt?" He raised his eyebrows; my question had clearly caught him off guard.

" Nightcrawler? Why do you wanna know about that sack of tricks?"

" I'm just curious, I mean…he's new, I'm new." I studied the toes of my shoes, feeling the cool blue eyes of John study me.

" Oh." I looked up, as he began to play with his lighter, " You like him, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

" I do not…well…not like that I mean." His smile was making me feel uncomfortable. I stood up and began pacing the middle of the floor.

" Oh yes you do…you like him." He nodded vigorously.

" Do not."

" Do too."

" DO not!"

" Do too."

" Do NOT!"

" Do too."

" Okay okay! I do…I like…I…I love him John.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm not continuing this story…I apologize to all of you who liked it, but I just don't see the point. Not to sound conceited, but like, 3 ppl are reading this. I'm sorry but my motivation is gone.


	10. Crazy

Okay…just for you I'll continue it…

" Love?" John raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes gone slightly steely, " I just asked you if you liked the guy, and you say love…"

" Well…" I trailed off, staring at the polished wood floors, " that's what I said, I said like."

"No," he stood up, shaking a finger at me, " no, you said love, you siad you love him."

"Well, I meant…when I said that I meant…okay! Yes, I do love him." I glanced up at him; he was staring at the flames on the wall, not

looking at me. A heavy silence descended upon us, filling the air like smoke after a fire. Neither one of us said anything, and I couldn't

help but wonder… "Wait, why do you care whether or not I like the guy? I don't even know you."

" Yeah, well…you don't know him either."

" Yes I do." I shot back, " that's a lie and you know it! I threw a large volume about the workings of fire at his head; he ducked just in

time, and it hit the floor with a smack.

"Markie, chill out," he raised his hands in defeat, "this isn't anything to be getting all worked up about…you just got here."

" It doesn't matter, Pyro," I stressed the word, crossing my arms over my chest, " I know how I feel. And what I feel is…that I love him, okay."

" Um, yeah…okay." He backed a little ways away from me, an uneasy look on his face, his eyes darting towards the door.

" What? Why are you looking like that John?"

" Looking like what?" He stood up, striding to the door.

" Like that, like you don't want me here."

" Is that how I look to you?" He opened the door, glancing back and forth into the hallway.

" Yes." I sighed, moving to stand beside him, " maybe this was a mistake, maybe I should go."

I entered the hallway, head held high, all the while scanning for Kurt.

" Markie ,wait," John held onto my wrist loosely, and I turned to face him.

" What?" Our eyes met briefly in the light of the hallway; he looked away.

"Nothing."


	11. Underneath

I sighed and began making my way down the hall, with the uneasy feeling of his eyes boring into the back

of my head. When I glanced back at him our eyes met, locked until I lost my nerve and looked away. I

continued down the hall, trailing my hands along the deep oak walls, unable to get his eyes out of my head.

That look…that smoldering look, trapped in the blue…that look and something else, that I couldn't name

. Hell, to be honest, I didn't want to try.

I focused my attention on the task at hand, tracing the wood grain patterns in the walls. I'd heard

somewhere that the rings inside of tree told of its age. I wondered if we had rings inside of us, if you peeled

off the skin, would there be a younger version of us underneath?

" No, I don't think that you would," my head shot up, as _his_ voice echoed in my head; Kurt.

" Would what?" I blinked stupidly.

" Find a younger version of yourself inside…at least, not technically." His smile was genuine, and I felt the beginnings of a blush creeping up my cheeks.

" Oh, I hadn't realized I'd spoken aloud." I looked at the floor, my shoes, the walls, my hands, anything to stop me from looking at his eyes.

" That has happened to me before," laughter was at the edge of his voice. I failed. My amber colored eyes, pulled by some unseen force, crept up to his golden, catlike ones.

Oh God…someone catch me…

" Um…uh…"-shit I was stammering all of a sudden. Think Marcella think! " Oh! Um, how was

your walk with …Ororo." It came out harsher than I intended, and he blinked, a puzzled

expression on his face.

" It was unfortunately cut short, because it started to rain outside."

" Oh," I bit back the smile that clung so close to the surface, " but isn't she Storm, I heard in class today

she controls weather…why didn't she just stop the rain."

" I…don't know."

Ah-Ha!

"Oh…well…I'm sorry." I lied and tried to look sorry, watching a small, but sad smile flit across his face, barely showing his sharp, shark-like teeth.

" Thank you," he continued down the hall, head down, black hair glistening in the lamp light, violet-blue tail trailing the carpet.

"Oh Kurt…I'd stop all the rain storms for you," I whispered, " I'd stop the world."


	12. In dreams I see you

I couldn't sleep that night…I lay awake for hours, replaying our conversation in my head,

particularly the part when I made him smile. I-Marcella, made Kurt Wagner smile…OH, I felt weak thinking about it, and all the other things I wanted to make him do.

I blushed in the darkness, as a vision of us locked in an embrace swam before my eyes.

What would it be like, to feel those arms around me, his soft lips upon mine? To hold onto him, as if I'd never let go, breathing in his scent, his life, his everything?

I turned onto my side, curling into the fetal position, closing my eyes so I could see his golden ones more clearly.

There was that brief moment of sadness in his eyes when we talked in the hallway, destroying his joy at the mention of her name…her.

_She _had made him sad, how very unsurprising. Ororo/Storm, with her brown eyes and white hair, and that damned smile she kept flashing like she was so sweet when we met yesterday.

Oh, I'm so happy to see you, blah blah blah-yeah, whatever bitch. Yeah, she was sweet alright, about as sweet as a heart attack.

How could she? A vision of that sad blue tail flashed into my mind, and I clenched my fist, gripping the sheets. She was making him miserable, leaving him cold and alone when he obviously needed someone.

Yes, he needed someone, someone like me.

"I would never do that to you", I mouth in the dark, seeing him beside me, "I would never hurt you, betray you, make you sad. I would only love you. Oh, say you love me."

"I love you Markie," he says, right before he kisses me. It is a warm, sensuous kiss, his lips soft yet demanding upon my own, coaxing my mouth open, promising so much more. I sigh into his mouth, as his tongue, feather light, tangles with my own. I snake my arms around his neck, faintly noticing the mosaic of designs that sweep across his skin, my mind quickly becoming a useless haze…then suddenly it shifts.

I sit up, only to find myself alone in my bed, hot and panting, my lips bruised red from the kiss, desire still so close to the surface.

I was dreaming…wasn't I?


	13. Insomniac Theatre

I pressed my fingers to my lips, surprised to find them slightly swollen. If it was a dream, then why did it feel so real? Why did my lips

tingle as if his lips had just been upon mine? I lay back, allowing my heartbeat to slow down, my eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the

darkness of the room. The moonlight cast shadows on the lower part of the wall; it had to be past midnight, the moon was always high

then. I turned on my side, and brushed a strand of orange hair out of my face, my stomach rumbling for lack of food.

"Damn," I muttered, slipping from between the sheets, if I didn't eat now it would never shut up. I straightened my flannel shirt, and

slipped into the dark hallway. For the first time since my arrival, the house was silent. It was almost eerie, seeing all the doors shut, no

light underneath the crack. My feet sounded hollow against the wooden floor, the only sound in the dead quiet.

"Now, if only I could remember where the kitchen is," I whispered.

"You could just ask me to show you." I spun around; John smirked down at me, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on my face.

"You."

"Yes, me." I rolled my eyes, a tiny part of me grateful for the company. But instead of moving to lead the way, he just stood there,

looking down at me. I looked up at him; although eyes remained hidden from me in the dark I could feel the intensity of his gaze. He was

so close I could feel his breath against my hair.

"Well," I whispered, as his hand found my own.

"Well what," his voice wavered as he stepped closer.

"Aren't you going to lead the way?" I raised an eyebrow, easily slipping my hand out of his grasp.

"Huh?" He was already pulling me closer, his arousal pressed against my stomach.

"To the kitchen; you know, where the food is?"

He coughed, and backed up a little, running his hand through his hair; "Uh…um…yeah, sure, the kitchen. Follow me." He began walking

down the hall, stopped, and turned around, "uh- it's this way." I smirked impishly, and followed his soundless steps towards our

destination.

We drew closer, to find the lights already on, voices echoeing through the room. Seated at the table eating ice-cream was a girl about my

age, with large dark eyes and white streaks in her hair, beside her was Bobby, Terminator's friend.

"Hey John, who's your friend?" The girl said, smiling warmly. Bobby stared coldly at me for several seconds, and I smiled sweetly. He

rolled his eyes and focused his attention on the carton of ice-cream he was eating.

"Oh…um...," he cleared his throat, regaining his cool, "this is Markie, she's new." He walked over to the fridge sticking his head inside.

"Hi Markie, I'm Rogue and this is"-

"We've met," Bobby said shortly, glancing up long enough to glare at me.

"Charmed, really I am," I smiled at Rogue and walked over to the fridge, leaning beside John, "what's good Pyro?" He flinched, keeping

his eyes on the contents of the fridge.

I reached inside, pulling out a frozen milky way, and padded over to the table, sitting across from my dear friend Bobby. " Doesn't anybody sleep around here?"


	14. Vanilla icecream

"Apparently not," Rogue smiled, stealing some of Bobby's vanilla ice-cream.

"Vanilla, eh?" I nodded at him, nibbling a piece off the rock hard milky-way, "you look like a vanilla kinda guy."

"Oh really?" He set his spoon down, "and what makes you say that?"

"Well, vanilla is so…what's the word…safe."

"Safe? It's just ice-cream, how can it be safe?" He picked up his spoon, taking a gob out of the carton.

"Well, think about it. Vanilla is everyone's first choice. Why? Because there are no surprises with vanilla. It's smooth, it all tastes the same; it's monotony."

"…Yeah," Rogue said after a minute of silence, "In a way, it really is."

"Are you saying I'm boring?"

"No…I'm simply saying that…you're not a risk taker."

"Oh, and you are?" John mumbled around a mouthful of cold chicken, his confidence renewed.

"Yeah, I am." I bit a chunk off the milky-way; it was softening.

"I take risks," Bobby said defensively, "I take risks all the time."

"Okay okay, maybe I have you pegged wrong. I doubt it though; I'm a pretty good judge of character."

"Yeah well, you're wrong about me."

"Well…"Rogue hesitated, "let's change the subject."

"Why? Things were just getting interesting," John grinned wickedly. She looked at him a moment, her eyes conveying a silent message. "Fine," he shrugged, "fine by me."

"O-kay then…what shall we discuss now?"

"Markie, where are you from," Rogue asked, "are you from around here?"

"Yes." Great, now it was time for 20 questions. I knew it would happen sooner or later, just not on the

second damn day. I had to play it cool, if I acted like I was uneasy about talking about myself, someone

would pick up on it.

"Oh," John's eyes met mine, "what does around here mean exactly?"

"A few hours from here." It was a lie, and he knew it. A slow smile spread across his face, and he turned his attention back to his chicken.

"So how'd you hear about the academy?" I sighed…another question.

"Through a letter in the mail."

"Oh, okay." Rogue and Bobby exchanged looks.

"Look I'm going to go try and get some sleep, see you guys later," I stood up, wrapping up my unfinished snack.

"Well, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I'll see you in class tomorrow?" Rogue's voice was evidently disappointed.

"Yeah, sure."

"Don't need me to walk you back? It's dark down there," I rolled my eyes, as John winked at me.

"No thanks. Later." I walked out of the kitchen, knowing they'd probably discuss me when I left. Sure, my

exit was abrupt, but I didn't need anyone prying into my personal life, especially someone I didn't know. I

walked back to my room and closed the door, pressing myself against the wall. Kurt was next door…the

wall was the only thing separating us from each other. I let my fingers travel slowly down the wall,

wondering if he dreamed of me while he slept.


	15. Stupid

**sorry for the sabbatical…I just kind of lost my flow. I think I've found it again…and if you all still desire to read this I'm continuing it so…**

----------------

My days at Xavier slowly became monotony. Flowing in and out of one another in different shades of gray, my only light being Kurt, and German, and of course those so looked forward to visits with Pyro, as he liked to be called.

Maybe those visits were a little too frequent, or maybe I should have listened to what Kurt had to say rather than just watch his lips move…then I wouldn't have been failing German.

We were getting our first tests back on a Friday and I almost didn't go to class. I knew when I woke up that morning that I had failed and Kurt-precious beautiful Kurt, would be so disappointed. I walked down the hall in my usual outfit sweater-jeans-heels, my head hung low, dreading each step I took. By now I knew the way to his classroom by heart, hell, I could have found it in my sleep, and in truth sometimes I did. I sighed and pulled my books against my chest, wishing I had actually studied with Pyro instead of "studied."

"What's wrong with you Markie?" Pyro fell into step beside me, his usual smirk on his face.

"We're getting our tests back today."

"What?"

"Our tests, John." He wrinkled his nose at my use of his human name; it always managed to get his attention.

"Tests…oh! Those tests. The German tests."

"Yes Genius those." I hunched my shoulders even lower, my eyes on the oriental rug.

"So. We studied."

"Not really!"

"Markie," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "why do you care so much, huh?"

"You know why," I grit my teeth at this.

"Markie," he grabbed my arm forcing me to look into his eyes; the blue was dark, angry, "it will never happen."

"Let me go." I jerked my arm out of his grasp and stormed into the classroom, taking my usual seat behind Rogue. Seconds later Pyro came in after, casting me a dark glance before slumping low into his seat. He shoved his backpack under his desk and slipped his zippo lighter out of his pocket, flipping it back and forth, playing with the flame. In front of me Rogue and Bobby exchanged looks, noting our dark faces.

"What's wrong?" She turned to me, her brown eyes concerned.

"Nothing, he's just being a baby."

"I'm being a baby?" He spat, "at least I don't live in a world that's make-believe."

"I do not live in a make-believe world."

"Yeah whatever."

"How dare you," I jumped to my feet, and the zippo flame drew higher, "you arrogant little"-

"Marcella! John! Please," Kurt sat his bag beside his desk, a weary look on his face, "it is far too early for such conflict." I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and slid into my desk, feeling every bit like a worm.

"Sorry Professor Wagner," I murmured.

"Sorry Professor Wagner," Pyro mimicked.

"Shut-up you little"-

"Please!" Kurt looked angry now; his yellow eyes had darkened, and his tale had begun to twitch. "We've all seen quite enough for today."

"Fine." Pyro flipped his lighter angrily.

"Good." Kurt turned back to his desk, "and now for the moment you've all been waiting for; your first tests." Groans resounded throughout the room; I guess I wasn't the only one who half-ass studied.

"I hope I did well," Rogue whispered to me confidentially, "I heard he doesn't give many tests."

"Oh shit," I bit my lip, "there goes the neighborhood."

He handed out tests for a while, then returned to his desk, a dark look on his face.

"Rogue did you get your test back?" I whispered, tapping her shoulder.

"Yeah, I got a 90, what did you make?"

"I never got mine."

"Oh," she gave me an oh shit look, "that can't be good."

"Um, Professor Wagner," I raised my hand slightly, trying not to reveal the hole under my sweater arm.

"Yes Markie?"

"I never got my test back." He clasped his 4 fingered hands and frowned.

"I think you should see me after class about that."

"Ooooh, after class," Pyro snickered, "maybe he wants to fulfill your every wish."

"Goddammit John," I hissed, "I'll kick your ass when we get out of here."

"No you won't, you'll be here…with Kurt."

I was silenced by the angry look on Kurt's face, as he watched us hiss back and forth. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, shaking his head.

"Class dismissed." The room cleared abnormally fast; but then again these kids were mutants. I slumped low in my seat, excited and yet, dreading our time alone.

I didn't want that test back.

"Markie, will you please come up here," he held what looked like my test; from far away I could see all the red marks, and my heart sank.

This was not good.


	16. It is you

**Thanx for all the sweet reviews, they're really encouraging...:D enjoy**...

* * *

I slowly made my way up the aisle, ever conscious of the click of my heels, the swish of his tail, the loud beating of my heart. I was at his desk before I knew it, standing in front of him, barely breathing. Our eyes locked, yellow to tawny; his emotions so hard to read in that ethereal shade of gold.

He blinked, and the moment was gone; I came crashing back to earth as he shifted his weight and became my professor again.

"Marcella, can you explain this?" I shook my head and tried to focus on his words, tried to make them register in my head without pressing my lips against his.

"Um…" He handed me my test, the number 23 showing bright red, most of the questions left blank.

That day came back to me in a flash. It was one of those days where he looked particularly dashing in charcoal colored slacks and a crisp white shirt. He was grading the tests of the class before us at his desk, and I couldn't concentrate on anything else. A small frown had creased his face, his Cupid's bow mouth in a pout…I was literally drooling on the floor.

"Marcella?" he touched my shoulder, the contact jarring me a bit.

"Huh, oh…I um…I really can't explain Professor." I bit my lip like a fool, and looked away.

"Perhaps you would have received a higher score if you had answered some of the questions. You didn't even try." He gestured to a desk, "Sit down."

I sat. I would have crawled on all fours if he'd asked. "I saw you that day."

"What day?" I blinked.

"The day of the test…you seemed pre-occupied." He settled in the desk across from me, clasping his hands in front of him, "You know I am always here if there is something on your mind." He struggled with the words somewhat, his accent getting in the way. I looked into his eyes, so kind and full of understanding- and I almost couldn't breathe. He had no idea what he was doing to me, making me fall deeper and deeper in love. It took every ounce of will power I had not to tell it all, let him know how I felt. That I loved him, and he was everything to me and so much more…

I held my tongue, looking down at my hands, my fingernails short and bitten down, the single ring I wore slightly tarnished.

"I know Professor and that…means a lot to me. That day…I guess I just…" I sighed, "There's this guy."

"I see." A small smile rested on his lips, and his cheeks darkened it what looked like a blush. A blue blush…oh God help me…

"Yeah."

"Someone here?"

"Uh-huh." I bobbed my head up and down.

"In this class?"

"…yes." Just say it Marcella!

Kurt licked his lips and squinted in thought, his tail swishing in the air. "I think I know who it is."

I almost stopped breathing, "You…you do?"

"Jonathan?" Dammit Kurt!

"No…" My hands were starting to sweat, my heart beating so loudly I could swear he heard it.

"No?" He blinked in surprise, "Are you sure?"

"Yes Professor I'm sure," I laughed a little at that.

"Then…I'm all out of guesses."

"I could…tell you…"

"That is your choice Marcella."

"I know…I feel like I can trust you." He smiled, the blush returning, clearly flattered.

"Thank-you. I would like you to feel that way."

"I do…" I looked down at my hands again, the fingers twisted together in nervous anticipation. We were both silent, he was waiting for my response; I was waiting for my lips to move. "Professor it's …it's you."


	17. Falls on me

**Listen to "Falls on me" by Fuel while reading this, or find the lyrics…it definitely goes.**

He blinked in shock, his cheeks coloring even more. "Marcella I-I'm-I…" he took a breath in an attempt to compose himself, "while I am very flattered"-

No! This was not the way it was supposed to go.

"Don't say it…please don't say it," I whispered, "don't lie to me."

"Lie to you?"

"Don't tell me you don't feel it when I know you do. That night under the stars, the way you looked at me," I touched his hand, barely tracing one of the many symbols on it, "I know you felt something."

He looked away, unable to meet my eyes; when he did, his eyes were sad, the gold dimmed by the heavy feeling. "Marcella, what lies between us is the beginning of a friendship, nothing more."

"NO!" I pushed away from the desk, walking angrily across the room, "Stop denying your feelings Kurt I know"-

"I am not denying anything Marcella," He stood now, his hands at his sides, "I am simply saying"-

"What about that night? That night in my room. I felt you there Kurt I felt you…"I moved towards him, standing mere inches away, "I remember your kiss." He ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight-but he didn't back away. He was immobile as I slipped my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his. Suddenly he came to life, wrapping his arms around my waist, his soft lips moving against mine.

Yes…just like this…just like I remember…lips just like the dream…and then, he was pulling away. Leaving me cold, a look of horror on his face.

"Marcella I am- so sorry," He touched his fingers to his lips, swollen from my kisses, "that was completely inappropriate."

"Why?" I moved closer and he backed away, "how can it be wrong when it feels so right. You know it does Kurt. You want me too."

"You are my student. I am your teacher," he sighed, "and that's where it ends."

"Ends…what do you mean ends?"

"I mean that there can be nothing more between us, aside from friendship."

"I don't wanna be your friend Kurt!" I felt my hands fisting at my sides, my feelings barely contained.

"I want to be yours," He smiled sadly, making his way back to his desk.

"Kurt…this could really work…I"- The words wouldn't come out. I love you was hanging upon my lips like a drop of water.

"It can't."

"Why?"

"Because Marcella you are my student…please." He looked desperate, his shoulders hunched, his tail immobile. "It cannot be any other way."

"Why!" I was near tears. My vision blurred and swam with the hot sea. The door jarred open, and Storm came into view, her white hair blowing behind her.

This was war.

"Kurt I"- she stopped when she saw me, a concerned look on her face as she saw my tears. In that moment Kurt straightened his posture, the haunted look of before leaving his eyes though his lips trembled slightly. "Markie, honey what's wrong?" She walked towards me, her spike boots clicking on the cold linoleum, "you look as if you're about to cry."

Couldn't she see that my heart was breaking?

"I'm fine Storm, I just"-

"She wasn't pleased with her exam," Kurt cut in smoothly, "you see, Marcella is a high achiever."

"Is she?" Storm smiled, brushing a tear from my cheek. I wanted to kick her.

"Yes."

"Well, don't feel bad Markie, it's only one test, their will be others."

"I know." I grit my teeth and tried to smile; I failed miserably. I blinked and the tears began to fall, turning Storm into a blur. They couldn't see me like this, I had to leave now before I fell apart. I gathered my books and ran from the room, their voices a mutilated tone in my ears. My only thoughts were of getting to my room. I could be alone there, and sort this whole thing out. My room…my room…that was my mantra as I ran down the hall, the tears blinding me.

"Whoa Markie," Pyro caught me in his arms, "what's wrong?"

I collapsed.

Into his arms I fell, my books sliding from my grasp, my shoulders shaking with my sobs. He kicked my books out of the way and pulled me into a tight embrace, his head resting on top of mine. "Shh," he stroked my hair gently, "it's okay, just let it out."

I clenched the back of his jacket as my knees buckled; it seemed as if suddenly everything had come crashing down on me, and I couldn't breathe under the weight of it. He didn't want me…Kurt didn't want me. In that moment I felt very alone, and empty.

Suddenly I felt myself being lifted; he was carrying me. I buried my face in his shoulder as he carried me into his room, using his foot to shut the door behind him. He settled on his bed and rocked me in his arms as I sobbed into his t-shirt. The room was silent, save for my sobs, and the soothing murmurs of his voice-comforting me.

I cried until I was spent, frail and lifeless in his arms, suddenly ashamed of this display of emotion. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

"You don't have to apologize," he tilted my chin towards him and our eyes met-blue and tawny. His eyes were so gentle, the way they looked at me. "I don't mind seeing you like this." He searched my eyes a moment, as if unsure, then gently pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was soft, tender; there were no demands or hidden meanings. I sighed against his lips and he pulled away, running his fingers across my cheek, "you okay now?"

"Yeah," I placed my hand on top of his, "I am."


	18. The Truth

**Glad you guys liked that chapter…thanx so much for the sweet reviews. U ROCK.**

We were both silent; I think maybe we were in shock. His hand turned underneath mine, his fingers curling around my palm.  
"Markie," his voice was the softest I'd ever heard it, and yet I couldn't bear to look up…knowing. Knowing that what he would say were the words I wanted to hear from the lips of Kurt.

"Yes..?" My voice was a whisper, though very loud to my ears.

"I…um…shit." He and slid his hand from underneath mine, running it over his face, "and I rehearsed this and everything."

"Rehearsed what?"

"Um…" his cheeks colored, "nothing. Never mind-forget I said anything okay?"

I felt my shoulders relax in relief. I didn't have to refuse him today.

"Okay John." I looked down, feeling awkward sitting in his lap now.

"John?" He raised an eyebrow, "it's Pyro remember?"

"I remember."

"Markie?"

"Yes?"

"Why were you crying?" He tiled my chin up, and our eyes met, the blue still soft and liquid.

"Please don't ask me that."

"How can I not ask you that? You run down the hall, crying like someone just died, and you expect me not to wanna know why?" His eyes grew fiery, "Was it Kurt?" I looked away. "It was Kurt. What did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Cuz if he did I'll"-

"He didn't hurt me…at least, not in the way you think," I thought back to our conversation, his refusal of me…he didn't want me. Kurt didn't want me…my eyes swam with unshed tears.

"Markie, Tell me what he did." He curled an arm protectively around my waist.

"I-he-he doesn't want me." The tears spilled down my cheeks, and I buried my head in his shoulder, "I don't know why."

"Shh," he rubbed his hand in slow circles across my back-then froze, "what do you mean, doesn't want you?"

" Just what I said…I told him how I felt, an he-he says he doesn't feel the same way," I raised my head, my lip trembling, "but I know he does, I felt it in his kiss."

"He KISSED YOU!" He stood up and I hit the floor. "You let him kiss you?"

"Ye-yes, and now he says he doesn't care."

"That bastard!"

"What's wrong with me? Pyro, what's wrong with me?" I curled up into a tight ball, I felt like I was drowning in his rejection. "Am I just not good enough?"

"No," he knelt in front of me, his voice husky, "No, Markie he's stupid. Any guy would be crazy to not want you…"he bit his lip, "he shouldn't have been kissing you anyway, he's supposed to be your professor"-

"I don't care!"

"But he should. And I don't see why you want him anyway. He isn't your type…but …I am."

**Sorry this chapter is so short- it was rather difficult to write, my mind is ADD today.**


	19. I wanted to know you

"What?" I blinked, knowing those words would come, but wishing all the while he wouldn't say them.

"I-I am Markie," He knelt before me, taking my hands in his own, "I want to be your-"

"No you don't."

"You didn't even let me finish," he sighed in frustration, "how do you even know what I was going to say?"

"Because I do, and you shouldn't say it…I…" I was falling apart a million times that day. Broken, shattered all over the floor in front of him…I wiped my eyes, and tried to regain what little dignity I had left, "I think we should just be friends Pyro."

"Oh," his eyes flashed, and he stood, "and you and Kurt can be something more, huh? Hot sex with little boy blue."

"Pyro please! This isn't even about sex or him"-

"Oh yes it is, you can't even see what's in front of you because you're so wrapped up in this"- he gestured with his hands, "fantasy."

Fantasy? He was calling my emotions, what Kurt and I had, an illusion…just because he was pissed I didn't want him. My pity only went so far…and he was stretching it.

"It's not a fantasy!"

"Then what are you doing here? In my room," his voice was low, "kissing me."

"Why must it come back to this?"

"Where did you think it was going to go? You come to me crying"-

"We've established that"-

"You kiss me"-

"You kissed me"-

"Bullshit you kissed me back…" he sighed , "I don't even know why I care…just…just leave." I blinked, not really believing his words. "Just go okay." He ran a hand through his hair, "let's talk later."

"About what?" He glared at me, and held the door open.

"Bye Marcella." I winced at his use of my full name. He'd never called me Marcella before. I stood and walked towards the door, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes; behind the anger was pain…I'd hurt him.

"Oh John I"-

"Bye." He slammed the door in my face, leaving me in the hallway, stunned into silence. Mechanically I made my way down the hall, replaying our conversation over in my mind, seeing my mistakes now. Stupid…

Stupid.

He comforted me, actually cared, and I hurt him. I pushed him away and-his eyes. Damn.

I just kept screwing up today, first with Kurt and now with him. Maybe…maybe if I would have approached Kurt differently none of this would have happened. Maybe John would have realized that Kurt had feelings for me and backed off…no…either way someone had to get hurt, but why did it have to be him?

He was my friend, why couldn't it just stay that way?

Why did things have to get so complicated all of a sudden? I sighed in frustration, and slammed into my room, remembering as I closed the door, that I'd left my books in the hall.

"Screw it," I muttered, throwing myself down on the bed, tracing my fingers across the wall like I always did…Kurt's wall…_our wall._ I pressed my ear against it; there were muffled sounds coming from his room. If I were to mystify myself and go through the wall, what would I find?

No…I couldn't invade his privacy. "No…bad idea, really bad." But I wanted to see him so badly. I closed my eyes and imagined myself as light as air, feeling the tingling effects of my body turning into mist.

Under my door I went, into the silent hall, my vision slightly foggy, me being so disconnected. I could stay in this state forever, it was so freeing.

Once I almost did. It was why I didn't mystify very much-the thought of being a vapor forever was so tempting…maybe I'd just float down the hall for a while, into the vents…see where it took me-so free-so free.

I slipped under his door hurriedly; it was becoming harder every minute to keep a straight thought.

His room was dark, save for a small lamp lighting a corner where he knelt under a picture of the virgin. I drew closer, realizing now that the muffled sounds I'd heard before were sobs.

He was crying.


	20. Mine

**Some clarification about chapter 19 and Markie's mutations **

Markie has two main mutations: the first one being her ability to create fire out of strong emotions such as anger, or merely the thought of a flame. She hasn't figured out how to control this ability yet.

Now to the ability introduced in this chapter that confused some of you…Markie's mystification, her ability to become vapor if she chooses. She hasn't figured out how to control this one completely either, which is why it is neither safe nor profitable for her to mystify, because the longer she stays in that state, the harder it is to come back. It makes her brain slightly foggy, as you saw in the chapter.

Anywho…if you need any more clarification, just ask, I'll be happy to straighten things out…till then-Enjoy!

* * *

Kurt was crying. His shoulders shook with the heavy sobs of a child as he huddled in the corner clutching a rosary. I drew closer, fascinated with this display of humanity, wanting to watch the crystal tears fall, yet at the same time wanting to make them stop.

He gazed up at the picture of the virgin, an imploring look on his face, then pulled out a small pocket knife. Sighing, he slid the sleeve of his black cotton shirt up some, to reveal a series of scars, shaped somewhat like the intricate symbols that covered his face, and brought the knife closer…

I almost returned to physical form from the shock. I had thought somehow that those symbols were apart of his mutation, that he was born with them. I didn't know he made them.

I watched in horror as he cut a thin curving line into his arm, all the while muttering a prayer in German. He dropped the knife, colored red with his blood, and bowed his head, the torrent of tears now a slow trickle. I wondered, as I swept through his room, what the cause of his torment was. What secrets he held inside, what kept him awake at night…was it me?

Suddenly I wanted to be real, to reach out and touch him; wipe the tears from his cheeks, kiss the sorrow away. But he couldn't know I was here. After what happened in the classroom earlier, he couldn't want me here. Could he?

My vision blurred for a moment and I willed it back into focus, if only for a few minutes.

Mistake. I became physical again, hitting the floor with a thud. "Shit," I hissed; he would see me, he would know. Upon impact Kurt looked up, his tear filled eyes wide with shock.

"Marcella?" Shit!

"Um…" Think Markie, think! "Hi."

He wiped his eyes hurriedly and stood, "how did you get in here?"

"Um…does it really matter…are you okay?" He blushed and looked down, playing with his hands.

"I am fine."

"No you're not…you're crying," I drew closer and reached out, wiping a tear from his cheek. He sighed and leaned into my hand, his eyes closed tight, his brow furrowed.

"Marcella…don't." He pulled away, walking towards his door.

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't right."

"Why isn't it right."

"Because it isn't." He sighed, "You are a child, and my student-please we have been over this."

"I am not a child!"

"You can't be more than 17"- he shook his head, "please leave."

"No, let me be there for you," I cupped his face in my hands, "please Kurt." Gently I pressed my lips against his, feeling a tremor run through his body as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. His lips moved against mine, his velvet tongue sliding into my mouth, my hands in his hair.

We fell back onto his bed, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to will him closer, feeling his body heat through the thin cotton shirt he wore. Time passed, but I lost track, lost in his kiss, his gentle touch, the way his hands felt as they moved in my hair…

He stiffened suddenly, and rolled off of me, onto his side. I turned to face him, a small smile on my lips.

"What are we doing?" He whispered, his golden eyes, a sea of emotions.

"Well a minute ago we were kissing," I touched his face, and he sighed, sitting up in the bed.  
"Marcella, you are so young, and this is…so so wrong. I can't"- I silenced him with a kiss, one that he returned hesitantly.

"It's okay. I want this too."

"You are a young girl, you don't know what you want."

"I know I want you." He blushed and looked away, hugging his arms to his chest, as if he was cold. "I want to be with you, and I know you feel it too." I sat up, and turned his face to me so that our eyes would meet, "there's something we have that no-one else does." His eyes fluttered over my face, gentle as a kiss, as if he was memorizing my features. He closed them for a while, and when he opened them, a look of determination lay in their depths.

"I need you to leave."

"What?" I blinked in shock.

"Please…Marcella."

I sighed, and slid to my feet, becoming a mist once more. Something in his voice told me he wanted me to leave that way…not that way, but discrete. He didn't want anyone to know I was there, in his room…in his bed.

Under the door I went, into the darkness of my room. I became physical again, my mind still a haze not from the mist, but from the kiss.

Had it really happened? I touched my fingers to my lips; they felt tender, sensitive. _It had happened._ He had kissed me, then asked me to leave…but he had kissed me. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. He didn't have to say it, his kiss told me of the truth he denied. In spite of his confusion and denial, and the tears he cried-the truth was in the kiss.

But the cuts…I couldn't forget that image…him taking a knife to his arm, carving out those angelic symbols.

Surely I didn't cause him so much anguish…

_Storm._ I grit my teeth. She had come in the midst of our fight in the classroom today. I'd left before I could hear what she said. Perhaps she had caused his pain.

I thought back to that day in the hall, when he looked so sad after seeing her-Yes…it had to be her. It couldn't be me.

He loved me…I knew it.

Her ass was mine.


	21. Nobody said it was easy

Surprisingly enough, I actually slept that night. Curled in the fetal position, my hands pressed against our wall- I slept soundly…until midnight.

I was jolted awake by the sound of something banging heavily against my door. I groaned and turned over, pressing my face into the pillow.

The banging continued. An incessant pounding that eventually drove me from my bed. I stalked towards the door, flinging it open; no one was there. "Weird," I muttered, looking down the darkened hallway. It was empty, and soundless, though I could see a light under Storms' door.

What was she doing up? A thin beam of light cut through the dark wood floor…Kurt was up as well.

I frowned and shut my door behind me, creeping closer to Storm's door, pressing my ear against it, not at all surprised to hear muffled voices; I recognized one immediately as Kurt.

"We have been friends all this time…"

"Yes, and I value that Kurt, I really do…but what you're asking me to hide is something that I just-I don't know." THAT BITCH. And what the hell was he telling her?

"I didn't know where else to go," his voice sounded choked with tears.

"Oh Kurt, come here." COME WHERE. I seethed, horrified to hear what sounded like a kiss. So now she thinks she can kiss my Kurt…He's mine bitch…mine.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you, it's wrong to eavesdrop?" I jumped a mile high, the voice shocking me back into reality. I spun around, only to find a very amused Logan watching me spy.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know it's way past your bedtime."

"And you should know." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah I should. Technically, I'm your superior."

"That's a mighty big word from you"-

"Says the runaway with no real education."

"Bastard," I hissed.

"You started it," he laughed and went off down the hall, puffing on one of his god-awful cigars.

For the record I was NOT a runaway…it's just that after the Orphanage burned down, there was nothing left to do but run.

I'd been doing it ever since. Running from things, from people, and maybe the truth?

At least until now. Now, there was something to believe in, or rather someone…the someone was Kurt.

I could believe in our love.

I smiled, suddenly feeling very serene. He'd understand once I did what I needed to do to Storm. She had to go, she just had to. She'd never leave him alone, and she'd keep seducing him until she got what she wanted. He was weak, but it was okay; I'd take care of the problem for him.

After all, what are lovers for?

I smiled to myself and went back to bed, no longer concerned with what she tried to do behind closed doors. In the end, I knew I would win.

She would burn.

-------------------

I awoke to the sunlight streaking through my windows, signaling the beginnings of day. For the first time in years I actually took joy in morning activities.

I took special pride in getting dressed, choosing a yellow sundress I'd bought from Goodwill awhile back. I matched this with a pair of straw sandals, suddenly matching was very important. I wet my unruly red locks, trying to make the curls more mannageable. It all had a meaning now. It was all for him.

I gave my self a once over and was out the door, only to realize I forgot my books…wait, no I didn't- they were with Pyro.

My heart sank as I recalled our last words…and his eyes. I would make things right with him, somehow. He was my friend, and there was no way I was losing him, not now.

I made my way over to his room, the aimless faces of the students becoming mere shapes, their voices a blur. None of it mattered anyway. They were all just background noise, a roar in the back of my head.

I stood in front of his door, willing him to come out-so I could make things right, so he'd know that I didn't mean to hurt him I just didn't know how not to. I would level with him, let him know that he really was my best friend, and that I loved him; just not in that way…as the door opened and he came into view all these thoughts fled from my mind. My mouth went dry, and there were no words.

He walked right passed me as if I didn't exist…

The words came back. "Pyro." he kept walking…it couldn't end like this! I fled after him like someone possessed, grabbing his shoulders, turning him around to face me.

"What do you want?" His eyes were smoldering, his lips set in a firm line.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry…about everything." I stumbled over the words; apologies were foreign on my tongue.

"Fine," he turned to go.

"Wait! Pyro please…you're…my best friend. Don't…let it end….like this." He froze, turning towards me slowly.

"You still don't get it do you..."he shook his head, "you just don't get it." He was gone then, stalking swiftly down the hall. I could only sigh and follow, puzzled…a deep feeling of sadness settling in my chest. What didn't I get? Was it the fact that he cared? I understood that part. That was the reason knew I had to talk to him this morning, because I cared for him as well. Or was it because of Kurt and I? The fact that he couldn't accept it, because he felt that it was wrong…or, was it because he was in love with me?

The thought sent little butterflies into my stomach…was he?

Could he be?

No. That idea was crazy. If anything he just felt like he had to protect me, or something. I bit my lip as I watched him slam into Kurt's classroom, hearing the signature thud of his books as they hit the desk…it depressed me.

Was this how it ended? How we ended. Our friendship over because of something I'd said or failed to say.

It couldn't end like this…it hurt too much.


	22. Echoes of my denial

"What's wrong with you and Pyro?" Rogue asked as soon as I slunk into the classroom. I sighed and let my head drop onto my desk; why did everyone want to know what was going on between us?

"Nothing," I sighed again and tried to keep my voice level, "why do you wanna know?"

"I was just asking because you two didn't walk in together," she raised her eyebrows, "you don't have to snap at me."

"Sorry. Look…just drop it."

"_Fine_." She spun around in her seat; I rolled my eyes. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it, poking her nose where it didn't belong. Maybe next time she'd leave me the hell alone.

I sighed again, my gaze shifting over to Pyro in the desk next to me. His eyes were glued to the door, his thumb flipping the shark-head of his zippo lighter back and forth.

"John," Bobby whispered, trying to get his attention.

"That's not my name." His voice was hard, steely even.

"Fine then," Bobby rolled his eyes, "Pyro."

"What?" His reply was laced with so much venom that Bobby just sat back, exchanging a look with Rogue.

I hated when they did that.

I gave John one last look then turned my attention to the front of the room as Kurt entered, his briefcase in his hand.

As if on cue Pyro slid his chair back, the metal scrapping loudly against the linoleum floor. He stood then, his eyes fixed on Kurt.

I swallowed hard, panic rising in my chest…the classroom, which was buzzing with voices, grew silent.

This was not good…unfortunately, Kurt was oblivious. As Pyro stalked to the center of the room, Kurt was busy settling papers on his desk, writing on the board with his tail-oblivious. My nerves settled in my stomach, as I dreaded the confrontation.

"Hey Kurt."

He turned around, his golden eyes slightly stunned; no-one had ever called him by his first name in class.

"…Yes?" His reply was hesitant, and slightly annoyed.

"How about you leave my girl alone." His girl? This was beginning to sound like some old western movie. Kurt arched an eyebrow; his tail twitching in annoyance.

"Why don't you have a seat _John_."

"Not before I see you burn." He flipped his lighter, using his hand to propel the flames forward. Kurt was faster, teleporting to the back of the room just as the flames torched his desk. Pyro spun around as Kurt teleported again, behind him, knocking the lighter out of his hand with his tail. Pyro snarled and raised his fist only to have it blocked, and his feet pulled from under him by Kurt's tail…he was no match for the tail. He hit the ground with a thud, and I flew from my desk to his side, glaring at Kurt accusingly; Pyro was unconscious.

"How could you?" I seethed, cradling his head in my hands.

"He attempts to set me on fire and all you can say is how could you!"

"He's your student." I brushed a stray lock of hair away from his face.

"And what does that make you, huh?" he pushed a desk out of the way just as Logan burst through the door, flanked by The bitch and Scott. "Class dismissed!"

Behind us the desk burned.

I watched him sleep, holding his hand in mine, my thoughts a blur.

I'd watched my best friend attempt to kill my love, and yet I hadn't stopped it, hadn't done a damn thing. I'd watched in shock, only to run to his side-not Kurt's'.

What did it mean?

I lay my head beside John's hand-the truth was, I didn't know. I hadn't thought, I'd only reacted to the sight of him on the floor and hurt. My mind seemed frozen until that moment, because the truth was…

The truth was, apart of me wanted to see those flames, wanted to see him burn. Burn for what he was doing to me, and to himself by denying me.

Burn for kissing storm, and ruining my relationship with my best friend.

I loved him still, but it was all his fault, and he needed to feel it, and stop hiding behind the Virgin Mary.

Did I love him…or was it John I loved?

"Ugh." I groaned in frustration, my confusion becoming too much to bear.

"Hey," my head shot up. In my mental absence John had come to. He lay there watching me; his eyes were the bluest I'd ever seen.

"Hi." My voice was a whisper. I cleared my throat, "how are you feeling?"

"I think I'll live," he smirked, "I've had worse done to me, Markie." I smiled at his use of my nickname. "How'd I get here?"

"Logan." I grimaced at the memory, "you wouldn't come to even after the smelling salts so he thought you should sleep it off."

"Like a hangover." He rolled his eyes and winced slightly, "hard floor."

"You think."

"Shut-up." He searched my eyes, his fingers curling around mine, "I saw you."

"Saw me what?" I leaned in closer, my eyes pulled to his.

"Saw you come to me."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"…Honestly?"

"Yes." I bit my lip, and tried not to get lost.

"I don't know…I just, reacted. I saw you, and I-I couldn't let him hurt you."

"But I could hurt him?" A slow smile crept across his lips.

"Well no…you didn't."

"He got lucky."

"John"-

"Pyro."

"Whatever." His thumb moved over the top of my hand in slow circles, a knowing look in his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing."

**Confused yet? Your questions will be answered in the next chapter…brace yourselves, it won't be pretty.**


	23. Twist the knife

"It's not nothing Pyro," I studied our hands twined together, a contrast of smooth sandalwood and sun kissed ivory. Dark and light.

My soul hurt.

"That's true," his voice was soft, and he traced my cheek with the tips of his fingers, his lips curved into that signature smirk, "but you'll never know what it is, will you?"

I sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"What's right would be a better question." He opened his mouth to speak as the door flew open, cutting our conversation short. Storm, shrouded in white like some avenging angel…she wasn't an angel though-she was the devil…or maybe I was.

She smiled artificially, walking towards the bed; I stiffened and held Pyro's hand tighter. I wondered what she would look like engulfed in my flames…our flames. His and mine. That beautifully flimsy dress would catch fire like dry grass-turn to ashes in minutes.

I felt him squeeze my hand and glanced over at his face; his eyes formed a silent warning, a single word; no.

He was always the only one I listened to.

I sighed again, smiling artificially as well. Her eyes left John's face only once, to send me a look of utter disgust, "How are you feeling St.John?"

St.John? I raised an eyebrow at the alleged St.John questionably; he shrugged. "Fine…too bad the same goes for that fur-ball."

I clenched my jaw; I wanted to defend Kurt, but I swallowed my words instead.

"Yes well, that fur-ball, as you call him, is very upset about what happened."

"Not as upset as he's gonna be once I get out of here"-

"You're Not, going to do anything else John. The professor has already called a meeting to discuss a suitable punishment for you."

"What?" John shot up in bed, "Punish me? I'm not the one trying to fuck lil kids"-

"John." I squeaked. Recognition crossed Storm's eyes but she quickly veiled it, crossing her arms.

"John please, Kurt would never"-

"Fuck you? You're right _Storm_, he wouldn't, you're above his age limit."

She blinked in shock, and then slowly exited the room, her eyes a mix of anger and sadness.

I boiled inside. How dare he unveil thoughts were suddenly incoherent, the world a sea of red. I choked on the dry air, suddenly unable to breathe, unable to feel, to think…to-

His lips came crashing down on mine, breathing life-the red becoming the blue of his eyes. I was lost again, the softness of his lips swallowing my rage.

His and mine. Our flame.

He pulled me into the bed beside him, draping his leg over mine possessively, releasing my lips. The flame was in his eyes too now, just as much a part of him now. We were silent, our eyes locked-mine a sea of confusion, his, so deep and sure.

Suddenly I was afraid.

He played with one of my flame colored curls, his eyes never leaving mine-he was making everything so complicated, and it was already complicated without this…without him. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry; I could only hold back my words for so long before they tainted the air between us.

"Why did you say that?" His eyes hardened as the sentence left my mouth, echoes of weariness shadowed by his anger.

"Does it matter?" He moved his hand away, and I watched it curl into a fist.

"Yes."

"Because it's true Markie-he's sick."

"To Storm, why did you say that to Storm?" I pressed on, in spite of the anger I felt rolling off him in waves.

"Somebody had to, and it wasn't gonna be you."

"But it didn't have to be you either. Look, things are already bad enough without you making them worse."

"Making them worse. I'm making them worse?" He laughed darkly, "You say this to me, the guy trying to protect you from the pervert and his girlfriend."

"He's not a pervert John!" This was getting nowhere fast. "Love has no age limit"-

"And you think he loves you? Markie, he won't even say it. He's still with Storm-why do you want him? He doesn't deserve you." He sat up, groaning at the pain, "Fuck."

"Oh," I sat up as well, gently touching the back of his head.

"Ouch," he flinched away from me, "that hurts you know."

"I know"...I pushed him back down on the bed gently; "he shouldn't have done that to you."

"No shit," he sighed, "Little blue bastard."

I was silent…tracing a pattern on the top of his hand. Our eyes met…my heart leapt… "John I"-

"Well, it's nice to see someone's awake." Professor Xavier wheeled into the room, "I'd like to talk to you St.John."

"Fine."

_Marcella I'll speak with you later._ I rolled my eyes; I hated when he talked to me in my head. I met Pyro's eyes once more, then left the room, closing the door behind me.

In the hallway, leaning against the door, was Storm  
--------------

She smiled warmly at me, but her eyes were cold. I smiled the same way, my old desire to watch the bitch engulfed in flames coming back. "Can I have a minute Markie?" She asked in that soft voice of hers…I seethed.

"Sure Storm, I got lots of minutes." Minutes to make you bleed…to torch your flesh. My mind jumped back to Pyro-"Ugh!" I gripped my hair in my hands, why was it suddenly so confusing.

"Something wrong?"

"No. What do you want?" I dropped my hands and leveled her gaze.

"Perhaps we should talk about this alone."

"Whatever." I let her lead me outside, into the garden, the sun blinding my eyes. It was still just as beautiful as last time but…something was missing. It seemed…wrong somehow, as if the magic was gone.

I turned to her, "What do you want?"

"Oh I think you know."

"Do I?"

"Yes." Her tone was clipped, "I want you to stay the hell away from Kurt."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You don't fool me Markie, I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you."

"Then maybe you should tell him to stay away from me."

"You're the one who keeps coming around."

"And he keeps letting me in…and you know why Storm?" I moved in close, my face inches from hers, "because I give him what he needs, unlike you." He hand had whipped across my face before I knew what hit me; I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth before I felt the pain. Looking up at her, I smiled…she didn't know what pain was-her Kurt, he was mine…maybe I could have them both-either way she couldn't have him…he was mine.

The world was awash in a sea of red; red and fiery yellow. She was over…this was over…I was breathing underwater.

She would burn…

I watched as her hair dress caught flames before she knew it. She shrieked in anger, her eyes rolling back to white, calling the storm.

It wasn't fast enough-you see, I controlled the flames. I allowed them to creep up her sides, watched her flail until the storm came, and the rain quenched it…It was then that I saw the lightning. A searing bolt in my chest, my vision blinded in white, hot pain.

Everything went to black.


	24. Believe

I awoke to the silence, blurred by the sounds of machines beeping…the sound of a heart monitor. I opened my eyes slowly, my body aching and sore, my throat parched. The room was empty, a bare silver chamber from what I could see, the walls and ceiling metal, the neon lights reflecting off the walls. I had heard of this chamber from a redhead in my chemistry class.  
It was known as the Frankenstein room, because everyone who came here returned different…frazzled…not completely sane.

Some would argue that before I came here I was neither of those, but I didn't think it mattered at the moment.  
I tried to raise my head only to be welcomed by a searing pain sending blinding white heat to my eyes, which I shut tightly to block out.

The pain roared in my ears, and I remembered.

The garden. Storm and the words that we said…breathing underwater.  
I set Storm on fire.  
I. Set Storm. On fire. The thought brought a smile to my face…but then what happened? I tried to remember and found that I couldn't.. I could only recall pain, and darkness, and now this room

"How could you?" A voice broke through my thoughts and I cracked open an eye. The shaking form of Kurt hovered in the doorway, his eyes wet, predatorial…angry.

"How, could you?" His voice was low, shaking with an effort to control his rage, "I thought you were better than that…I should have known."

My eyes pricked with tears of anger, and I shot up in bet, the room spinning and white. I groaned and slid helpless back into my position, shutting my eyes, willing him to leave.

"She has 3rd degree burns over 50 of her body Marcella, or does that mean anything to you!" He grabbed me, pulling me forward, shaking my shoulders till I opened my eyes, "answer me!"

"Will you stop shaking me already?" I tried to yell but it came out as a cracked gasp, my throat was stripped and raw.

"That is nothing compared to what you did to Storm. Why Marcella? Tell me why."

"She fucking deserved it Kurt…she told me," I took a breath and tried to make the double I was seeing turn into one, "she told me to stay away from you"-

"Oh please"-

"She put her hands on me. She fuckin slapped me Kurt what the hell was I supposed to do?"

"You tried to kill her Marcella," his golden eyes searched mine, looking for understanding, " nothing you have said has justified that."

"Justify? Justify? I have to justify what I did. The bitch had it coming and she got what she deserved. She's been asking for it. I saw you Kurt," I looked towards the door; it was ajar a little. " I saw you, " I lowered my voice, " saw you go to her room that night…I know you fucked her. How could you, Kurt? You're asking me how I could set the woman who fucks MY man on fire?"

"Aaah," He sided in frustration, rolling his eyes, " I am not your man Markie, I am not your anything!"

"Yes, you are. Just stop denying the way you feel about me," I tried to touch his face and he flinched stepping back, "stop denying that you love me."

"I am not in love with you."

"Liar."

"I am not-in love-with you. Do you understand?"

"LIAR." My vision blurred with tears, " You can't even meet my eyes. Stop trying going to her to get what you really want from me." I grabbed his chin jerking his face towards me, "stop denying that you love me."

"Marcella." He sighed sadly, his tail flicking in agitation, "I an not in love with you. I'm sorry"-

"Liar," my hand flew up to slap him, stopped in the air by his tail. He gripped my wrist hard, hard enough to leave bruises.

"I'm not"- I cut him off, pressing my lips against his. He returned my kiss hungrily, pressing me down into the bed, my head connecting painfully with the firm mattress. His hands slid up my sides, over my breasts, into my hair. I moaned in a mix of pleasure from his touch, and pain from my injury. He froze, pulling back suddenly, golden eyes wide, indigo curls mussed.

"I'm sorry"-

"Don't"-

"I forgot you were hurt."

My eyes widened. He hadn't apologized for kissing me.

"I don't care."

"I do." He sighed, running a hand through his black locks, muttering in german.

"What?"

"What are we doing? What am I doing?"

"Say it." My eyes burned into his, "say you love me."

"Marcella, you shouldn't "-

"Say you love me, Kurt."

"I…" His yellow eyes burned with tormented tears, his voice broken, "I love you Marcella."


	25. Seclusion

**It's short…yes. You deserve more, I know…but the story is reaching a climax and this chapter is essential to that.**

Those words…the world seemed to stop when he said them.

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. The look of disbelief on his face was telling enough about his thoughts, and I felt…

Strange. Because his confession didn't bring the joy I thought it would. It only made me sad, and confused…and angry. Why couldn't he have figured this out sooner? Why'd he have to wait till now to realize what I'd known all along…why?

I shook my head and winced at the pain. What did it matter? He was here now and he loved me. That was enough.

That should have been enough.

"I see you are awake Marcella," Professor Xavier wheeled into the room, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence. Kurt stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair, tail twitching. The Professor stopped in front of him, looking at him knowingly.

I knew then, that he knew about us, and my heart sank.  
This would not be good at all.

He wheeled away, coming to rest beside me, "Mr. Wagner will you please leave." It wasn't a question. Sighing Kurt made his way slowly to the door, throwing me a glance, offering support..

I sighed.

The professor sighed, "How are you feeling, Marcella?"

"How would you feel if you got struck by lightning?" Something in his voice put me on the defensive side. He smiled a little, and I ran a hand through my hair, "I'm okay I guess."

"Good. I wish I could say the same for Ms. Monroe. Unfortunately, she remains unconscious."

"Awww, hehehehe," I snickered maliciously.

"This is nowhere near amusing, Marcella," His usually amiable face was hard, "what you did was inexcusable."

"She had it coming to her and she got what she deserved! Is it my fault it had to end this way"'

"You must exercise some control here Marcella"-

"Control! You exercise control when the man YOU love is being held hostage by some…some…BITCH."

"Marcella, I understand you have feelings for Mr. Wagner but that gives you no right to injure another member of this school." He sighed, "I'm going to have to put you in seclusion for now."

"Seclusion? Excuse me?" My head started to throb.

"You say that as if I'm some type of animal."

"If you insist on acting like one"-

"All I did was defend myself."

"Call it what you will, you cannot expect to behave as you do without consequences Marcella. It doesn't work that way."

"Well then she should have some for striking me with lightning."

" I think her state of unconscious is quite enough."

"Well then my state should be enough too."

"Good day Ms. Langdon." He wheeled out of the room, leaving me angry and wondering what was next.

What would happen if Storm didn't wake up? I'd…killed people before, when I was a child, but this…I don't think I meant to kill her. It was more like a reaction to…everything.

The fact that she'd pretended to be my friend then turned around and slept with Kurt, knowing all the while…wait.

Did she know?

I mean technically our relationship wasn't exactly out in the open…but she had to know. I HEARD him confessing all that night in her room, right before they slept together.

Inside, I seethed. That was probably why she fucked him in the first place. To make him forget me.

But apparently he hadn't, and couldn't…because he was just in here professing his love.

Would he confess that to her too?

Was our love so wrong?

I sighed and lay back down, my eyes drawn like a moth to the fluorescent lights. Was it even love? Shouldn't I have been happier when he said it?

Yes. I shouldn't have had to pry it out of him like that. But maybe he just needed time to realize it, but hadn't I given him enough time? Enough…everything?

I was always the one giving.


	26. At the Center of the World

-  
The flames roared around me as I picked my way through shards of broken glass. The children screamed around, writhing in the flames, melting into the floor of what was once a play room. This was May field orphanage, this was home. I stumbled over the arm of a crying woman, one of the workers perhaps, she reached to me, and the acrid scent of burning flesh stole into my nose. Above me the roof was caving in, allowing starlight to break through this scene from hell. The ambulance couldn't get there fast enough.

I woke up in a cold sweat, twisted in my sheets, afraid to look around me…thinking I would be back there, in that hell for orphans.

I hadn't had that dream in a long time, not since I'd come to Xavier…I think it was the reason I'd forsaken sleep altogether, just to escape the melting faces.

I could never forget the faces.

I shuddered and curled into a ball. Around me it was silent, the walls a cold unfeeling glass held together by belts of steal; this was seclusion. Proffessor Xavier had me locked away like I was some sort of criminal…maybe I was.

I stared out the glass into the dark corridor. He'd put me in glass, I assumed, so they could keep watch of me. Make sure I didn't do anything -crazy. It would give me time to think he'd said, about what I'd done and how wrong it was.  
That only works if you have some regret; I didn't have any. My only regret was that Storm lived, that Xavier had come for a brief while to report her condition…that he'd taken joy in the look of utter disgust on my face when he'd told me Kurt and Storm were engaged now.  
Engaged. He'd confessed his love then proceded to propose to my enemy. The thought crushed me, so I pushed it somewhere deep beyond me, and tried to think of something else, anything else. I needed to drown out the roar of my heart, the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes.  
He said he loved me, and I knew he wasn't lying; I saw the truth in his eyes-so why was he doing this to me? 

This was the worst part of seclusion; the fact that I actually had time to think about what I knew they were doing late at night.  
He was fucking her; when it should have been me.  
It should have been Me.  
Me.  
And the thought made my stomach turn. Sometimes I pictured them all tangled up in his cotton sheets, sweating as they moved in rythym to their lust. It wasn't making love I know, it was fucking, but I didn't feel any better about it.

And then my thoughts would drift over to Pyro, my friend who loved me too much. Much more than I deserved. Why? I was always chasing Kurt, and yet he loved me, and he was sure of it.

Kurt was never sure of anything…he hid behind his rosaries as if they'd save him from the world…from me.  
Pyro didn't hide from me…he was always so sure of his love for me; how could he be so sure?

I closed my eyes and tried to picture his face. His deep brown eyes that always seemed so naked when they looked into mine, all their guards down…down. He was beautiful that way, when he let me in…

"Markie." My eyes shot open; Pyro was pressed his hand against the glass, smiling that little half smile of his. I stood as if in a trance and walked over to where he was, pressing my hand against his.

"Hey you," I said through muffled tears, "I missed you."

And I did. 


	27. Dream to Make Believe

This Chapter was inspired by several songs, in particular, Dream to Make Believe by Armor for Sleep, and Kiss&Control by AFI.

Enjoy  
----------------

He traced my fingers with his, the smile leaving his lips, his eyes glistening with tears unshed.

"How did you find me?" The question left my lips, hovering in the air around us, heavy now. He pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head, typing a code into the small keypad outside the door. How he knew it, I'd never figure out, but I was glad that he did.  
The glass door slid open and he rushed inside as I rushed into his arms, collapsing.

"I'm so glad you're here," I whispered, "John, I need to tell you something, I"-

"Shh, don't say anything," his eyes were a myriad of emotions, "don't say anything…  
There wasn't anything left to say; nothing that his eyes didn't tell me. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. The shape of his face, the curve of his lips, the way the brown in his eyes held flecks of gold. It was, painful almost, just how -beautiful he was to me, in that moment.

I just wanted to feel him. Feel this. Gently, I pressed my lips against his, a sigh escaped his mouth before he pulled me to him, pressing his body against mine. He laced his fingers with mine, letting his lips linger before he pulled away. His eyes were raw and vulnerable as they met mine, the hidden emotions now in plain site. Love, fear…sadness. "Markie, if this isn't"-

"Shhh," I whispered, "it's ok John…it's ok." I led him towards the tangled nest of sheets; his hand was shaking in mine. Turning slowly I kissed him once more, tasting the salt of tears on his lips, as I slid my hands under the frayed edges of his t-shirt. His skin was smooth and warm, and he pressed against my hands, sighing into my mouth, running his tongue across my bottom lip. I slipped his shirt over his head, laying back onto the bed, beckoning him to follow.

He covered my body with his own, and I arched against him, wrapping my arms around his slender waist. The softness of his touch erased the acrid smell of smoke, the melting faces, the ability to breath under water. He slipped my thin t-shirt over my head, his lips creating a soft trail down my throat, the gentle humming sound he made blending in to the silence. He trailed kisses over my breasts, around my navel, and back up again. I hissed as his skin met my own, my hands sliding down his back and over his stomach. His lips met mine again in another gentle kiss; so unlike Kurts'. Where Kurt was all passion and regret, Pyro…John…was in no rush. His kisses were soft and delicate, not violent and rash and…thoughtless.

He left me only a moment, standing up to slide his faded jeans to the floor. Stepping out of them he pressed against me once more, his eyes meeting mine, "If you don't wanna do this…it's ok. I know that you and K"-

"Don't say his name…not now." I searched his eyes with my own, "It doesn't matter now. Just …" How could I make him understand, "I need you"  
He smiled and my eyes filled with tears…I loved him. "John I-  
He entered me then, and my words left my mouth in a strangled cry, the pain numbed by pleasure. His rhythm was slow as he moved inside of me, and I matched it with my own. His lips never left mine as he made love to me, and I sighed into his touch, my head thrown back as my body arched into his.

I whispered his name as we climaxed, his body shuddering at his release. I cradled his head against my chest, still reeling from what had just happened, my vision blurry. He looked up at me, his chin resting against my chest, his eyes wide.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He blinked and looked down, self-conscious.

"No, you didn't…you were perfect."

He blushed, and looked down, moving so that our bodies were facing each other, his hands trailing up my sides. I stroked his cheek with my fingers, my eyes wide with wonder. "Did we just…?"

"Yeah." He laughed a little, "We did"… His voice trailed off, "do you regret it"  
His words were like cold water, dousing my dreamlike haze.

"What?" I blinked.

"Do you regret…this?" He gestured to our naked bodies, my leg slightly twisted with his, my arm draped loosely across his waist. I smiled, taking in the picture we must have made, ghosting a kiss on his lips.

"No, John. I don't regret this at all." I brushed an unruly lock of chestnut hair out of his eyes; they were glowing. "But"-

"No, don't spoil it." He pressed my head against his chest, "I love you, don't spoil it."

"I won't," I whispered through my tears, "I promise I won't."


End file.
